


Not the Winter Fairy Tale You Were Thinking Of

by zeplum



Category: The Pretender (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 10:51:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11758290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeplum/pseuds/zeplum
Summary: Stuck in a (Canadian) shack.Originally published 5/10/2005.





	Not the Winter Fairy Tale You Were Thinking Of

"What do you think about Broots and Sydney?"

Parker grunts, arms struggling to somehow break the ropes binding her to the straight backed wooden chair. "Broots is fine -- we left him the van -- with _heat_ and _food_...and full access to every internet porn site imaginable."

"And Sydney?"

"No doubt in the snow regaling a pack of squirrels with Belgian folk tales. The usual."

"And you're here, stuck with me."

"Give a prize to Captain Obvious! Now will you let me go? It's not like I'm going to run away into a _whiteout_."

"So it's just the two of us."

"Don't get your hopes up, Fabio."

"Believe me, that's the last thing on my mind."

"And the first?"

"How to stay alive. This storm could last for hours, days. And by that time our resistance will be so low that, we can't," Jarod swallows harshly, looking faintly embarrassed, even now, "you know."

Her lips curve into a smile, mostly menacing but with an edge of something...else. Damn Jarod and her apparent complete lack of resistance. "Or we starve to death."

"Then again, we might freeze before any of that happens," he returns coolly.

Parker's eyes go round. "I thought you were a genius, a fucking _pretender_. Don't you know if we'll survive given all that's here, and I'm not talking about your endless supply of junk food. I'm not living off PEZ, Jarod. Even the professor on Gilligan's Island would have a better idea."

"Professor?"

"Oh, no. No pop culture introductions until we find out about fuel or food."

"You're not at all worried about the weather?"

"It's snowing. The way I see it, only a volcanic eruption or some _other_ freak event of nature could make this worse." Or if he was wearing one his damn black t-shirts. She's seen pictures -- and then _very_ quickly slipped them away. "Then again, this is the Centre, so..."

Jarod's eyes go hard. "It's not the Centre."

Parker holds a breath. "Right," she says in a soft voice. He was still angry about that, but who could blame him? She's angry too.

"Fuel."

"And food. You take the kitchen."

"Why --?"

"Because at least you know what you're looking for. I live off antacids and whatever stuff you send to my office."

"That's meant for Debbie...and Broots."

"Tough. Besides, Debbie has beautiful teeth, they should stay that way."

"You really care for her," it sounds like surprise. Like he doesn't know.

"What of it? Now get on with it, Betty Crocker." Seeing his confusion and still wondering how he manages to miss these things, she bites out, "I'll explain it later." Great, next time he'll send her a fucking cake. Likely an obscene one.

Sydney better be telling _really_ good stories to those damned squirrels.


End file.
